


Beginning to End

by ashkatom



Series: 100 Post Ficathon [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:01:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashkatom/pseuds/ashkatom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How the Psiionic and the Sufferer met, lived, and died. Sadstuck warning, awooga awooga.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginning to End

He doesn’t talk for the first perigee after you bring him back to your hive. At first you think your rescued yellowblood is a mute, but eventually Rosa manages to get his name out of him. Pollux.

Maybe he just doesn’t like talking to you.

He sticks close to you, though, blue and red eyes sparking nervously when you’re out of sight. He’s taller than you, obviously at least a couple sweeps older, and there’s something about him that makes you sad.

He wakes you up one day at midday and shakes you out of your sleeping pile. It’s exactly a perigee since you found him dying in the desert, and he leans into you, burrows into your blankets and sheets, and tries to hide in your cloak.

You rub his back the way Rosa rubs yours when you have nightmares. “Pollux? What’s wrong?”

He speaks, then, and it scares you. “We’re all going to die in fire, KC. Everything ith going to burn.”

He bursts into tears then, and all you can do is hug him and whisper shoosh as comfortingly as you can. 

\--

Slowly, you manage to coax more out of him. He’s an escaped psionic – duh – who has visions of a doom-filled future – scary – and he will never, ever go back to where he was. That’s good, because you won’t let him. He hasn’t said anything about where he came from, but his silences say as much as his words.

He lisps. Every time he looks frustrated at his speech, you nuzzle him until he looks annoyed at you instead. Generally Rosa has to pull you out of a slapfight five minutes later. He always cheats and pokes you with psionics after, you throw something at him, and it all starts again.

It takes you three perigees to tell him about your dreams of the other Alternia. The nice one.

He takes your word as gospel.

You’re pretty sure this is that diamond thing that Rosa went on about when you asked about her last visit to the cities?

\--

Disciple comes into your life halfway through the next sweep. She’s more dirt than girl when she stumbles into your camp, covered in green cuts and dirt. She’s barefoot, dressed in rags, and she doesn’t have a lusus.

Rosa takes care of her. Rosa takes care of everyone who needs it.

She hero-worships you, although you’re not sure why. She’ll listen to you talk about your dreams for hours, and it’s nice to have someone listen, _really_ listen to you and drink in all the details. Even Pollux can’t listen to your dreams for too long, although it’s more because he gets distracted by computers or a bee going past or the colour blue. He’s always got your back, though, and he’s good enough friends with Disciple that he gets indignant when you take over her hair-brushing duties. Eventually you all agree that it’s a stupid argument anyway and Disciple can brush her own hair.

Both of you keep doing it anyway.

\--

You’re on one of your rare moirail jaunts when some indigos come through the forest you’re camped in. The last town you were in must have tipped them off. They’re going the wrong way, but still, you need to warn Rosa and Disciple and get out of there.

Pollux shoves you away from the indigos and into the thick of some shrubbery. “Thtay here. I can get there fathter,” he hisses, before running off. Once he finds some cover, he takes to the air. You’re left behind, wracked in anxiety and wreathed in feelings of uselessness.

You’re all fine, of course. Pollux was able to get there and get Rosa and Disciple out before they even realised anything was wrong.

\--

As soon as you find a new lair, Pollux grabs you by the wrist and tugs you along on another pale outing. You have barely enough time to wave to Disciple and Rosa, who largely ignore you.

You sit in the branches of a sprawling tree that dominates a clearing. Pollux had to boost you both up, and you cling hesitantly to him because you’re not really used to being this high.

“I’m going to be the best thionic,” Pollux says, abruptly. “I’m going to be tho good that they won’t even come after uth. We’ll all be thafe.” His hand finds yours and tightens around it. “I’m not going to let anyone get near you, KC.”

“You didn-” you begin to say, but he cuts you off.

“I had to leave you behind.”

You scoot closer, cautiously. “If we’re going to change Alternia, I’m pretty sure I’ll have to be self-sufficient. I’m not going to convince anyone by hiding behind you.”

He sets his jaw, which must be difficult with a double row of teeth. “I’m thtill going to be there. And anyone who metheth with you ith going to regret that they ever crothed the Pthiionic.”

You let that stretch out for a while, then say, “Pol, you can’t even pronounce that.”

“Shut up,” he says, and wraps an arm around you. “I’ll thtill be terrifying.”

\--

It gets a lot easier to define your relationships once you discover love, and not pity.

Love fucking hurts, though.

\--

You get caught eventually, of course. You knew it was coming, somehow. Psi’s visions got worse, you smelled burning flesh every time you turned around, and now here you are in the worst dungeon the Alternian empire has to offer with everyone you love, and you’re waiting to be executed.

They’re going to make your family watch.

You spend your last day wrapped around Dolorosa, Disciple, and Psi, telling them that they cannot, must not even try to save you. Anything they do at this point will make it worse for them. It’s a certainty that you’re gone, but you need them to stay.

\--

Disciple listens to you, because that’s how she shows her love. She takes evidence and goes to spread your word, even though it kills her to leave you. You see her go as your mutant blood, neon bright against your skin, spills down your side, and you scream to distract her pursuers.

And because everything hurts.

Dolorosa tries to reach you, but the Condesce’s guard restrain her. You hope she doesn’t get free and worsen her sentence.

Psi, though…

He tears through the guards like they don’t even exist. He’s not gentle about it, either, but you’re too far gone to care. They stapled you to this rock and laugh as you die, and you’d kick them into the dirt yourself if you were in any shape to do so.

He reaches you, keeps everyone back with barely a thought, and stops you bleeding with barely another. He is The Psiionic, and you can see guards quivering in fright, afraid to approach, from where you burn. He’s your terror and he’s breaking your heart with the punishment he’s bringing down on himself.

“It’th too late to protetht,” he says, cutting you off before you can start one of your useless arguments. There’s no time left. This is the last time the two of you will ever speak.

That hurts more than the dying.

You cough up some blood, grateful for the moisture on your lips. “I love you, Pol.”

He scrubs at his eyes. “I love you too, you nooklicking jerk. I’m going to make the Empire worship the ground you walked on by the time I’m through.”

There’s not enough moisture left in you for crying, but you let out a dry sob anyway. You both know that there’s no getting free from the aftermath for him, but you almost believe he could take on anything for you. You know he’s going to try.

He kisses you for the first and last time, too briefly, you can feel him even through all the pain and rage and you’re sorry for anyone who only knows pity and not love. He’s shaking when he pulls away, a hand pressed against his head, and you gather your courage.

“Get the fuck out of here,” you tell him, in one long breath that takes more effort than it should. “Go.”

He turns and faces the crowd. “They want you? They have to go through me firtht.” You can hear the smug half-grin in his voice, and part of you is grateful while the other part despairs. “I alwayth knew the world would burn.”

You close your eyes, tilt your head back, and let the battle go on without you.


End file.
